


Wrong Name

by byebands



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byebands/pseuds/byebands
Summary: Stiles really isn't the best with girls, but he sure is adorable. Coffee Shop Romance.





	Wrong Name

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first ever one shot (i guess?) that I wrote for the Teen Wolf fandom and people seemed to enjoy it on Tumblr, so I'm transferring it over here. Enjoy. (-:

_Ding._

You raised your eyes from your cell phone, quickly stuffing it into the pocket of your apron. You watched a man you recognized walk in, offering you a goofy grin. You returned it warmly, quickly moving to start on his order.

Behind him walked in another man, this one with darker hair and skin. You gave this man a smile as well, this one holding less affection than the one you showed the previous man. You started blending the coffee and cream for the first man’s order. “One second, sweetie.” You called to the second man, throwing the empty milk carton into the trash can. You made your way to the register, bouncing a little bit. “What can I get for you?”

The two men approached the counter together and you processed that they were probably friends. “Oh, are you two ordering together?”

The man you were familiar with nodded. “Yeah! I’m gonna just -”

“Have your usual?” You asked, giving him a wink. He nodded, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. 

“And for you?” 

The darker haired man sighed, looking the menu over for a moment. “Can I just get a grande caramel macchiato, please?”

You nodded, picking up a cup. You quickly scribbled down the order before writing down the name of the regular you’d grown so used to seeing. “That’ll be $5.90, please.”

The regular furrowed his brows at you, “why so cheap?” He asked you, offering his card.

You slid it through the card slot before handing it back. “Yours is on the house,” you said sweetly. You thought you saw a blush creep onto his cheeks right before he turned to look at his friend who was saying something about sending him the money.

His drink was done quickly, since you had already started it before he had ordered, but you made sure to finish his friends first. “Miles,” you half shouted to the nearly empty coffee shop (the three of you being the only occupants).

Miles quickly stood up from his seat, his friend grabbing his wrist in confusion. “Why’re you getting up?” His friend asked.

“Because one of our drinks are ready,” Miles rushed out. He quickly snatched his wrist away from his friend, hoping to have this whole thing end there.

“That isn’t your name, though!” His friend said, leaning forward a bit in his seat. You looked between the two, growing confused yourself.

Miles took the cup from you, giving you a worried smile, before heading back to his seat. You leaned against the counter a bit while adding the whipped cream to the top of his drink to finish it off.

“Why do you let her call you Miles?” His friend asked, amusement evident in his tone.

Miles was blushing a deep red, his voice almost low enough that you couldn’t hear it. “Cause, that’s what she thinks it is, Scott.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Well why didn’t you correct her?” His friend, Scott, asked him. You struggled to put the lid to the cup on, straining to keep listening to the conversation.

“Cause,” Miles said, knotting his hands together in his lap. “I have been coming in here like, every day for a month dude. I told her my name the first day and she misheard me. So I’ve just been going along with it. I mean, Miles might not be my name but she says it more affectionately each time so… I guess I’m just letting it happen cause I like her and maybe one day I’ll correct her. I dunno.” He was speaking fast, you could tell he was more embarrassed than even his cheeks admitted.

His friend covered up a laugh by coughing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh, Stiles. That’s so sad, man. Seriously. Why didn’t you just correct her the first time she missaid it? Wouldn’t that have saved you a whole lot of trouble?”

You stared down at the cup in your hand, instantly feeling terrible at the sight of “ _Miles_ ” written in your best handwriting. You grabbed a sharpie from your apron pocket, scribbling the name out. You wrote “ _Stiles_ ” in a pretty way, attaching a heart to the end of his name. You couldn’t help but be thankful that his friend had managed to speak loud enough to tell you the cute regulars real name.

“Scott, how often do I do things that save me trouble?” Stiles asked, beginning to tear apart a napkin he’d grabbed from the holder behind him.

“That’s a fair point,” Scott amended, taking a drink of his coffee.

You watched Stiles tear at the napkin for a second before realizing you still held his coffee in your hand. You scribbled something else on the cup before walking to the little “ _pick up_ ” cut out. “Stiles!” You called out, biting your lip to keep your smile from becoming almost creepily big. You were happy that you could correct yourself so he wouldn’t have to.

His head snapped to look at you before he clumsily pushed himself up from his seat, rushing over to take the coffee from you. “You uh,” he tried. He seemed too flustered to get the sentence out.

You gave him a soft smile, touching his hand comfortingly. “I overheard your conversation with your friend. I’m sorry I’ve been calling you Miles this whole time, honestly. You should’ve corrected me. I would’ve been happier to know I was calling you the right now.”

He stammered for a second, looking down at your hand on his, nodding his head slowly. “Sorry,” he finally managed. “I didn’t wanna correct you and offend you. Besides, I didn’t mind you calling me Miles. It was nice to be remembered by you, even if it was the wrong name you remembered.”

It was your turn to blush as you shrugged your shoulders. “It won’t happen anymore, Stiles. Promise.” You gave him a wink and then turned, hearing the sound of the drive through. “Enjoy your coffee.” You called to him before lowering the microphone to talk to the person at the drive through, immediately starting on their order.

As you were handing it out of the window to the person in the car you heard the door ding again. You glanced to see if you needed to greet someone, instead watching the two men you’d been eavesdropping on leaving.

 

That night you got a text message from an unknown number, right before you were heading to bed. You were annoyed that someone was texting you after you’d made it known to yourself that you were going to bed, but checked it anyway.

“ _(y/n)? Hi, it’s Stiles (formerly Miles). You left your number on my cup and I was hoping that was because you wanted me to get in touch. I’m sorry it took so long. I’ve rewritten this nine times. If you don’t answer, trust me, I get it._ ”

You couldn’t help laughing at his message, and were quick to reply to him. You told him you were glad he text you, and he replied that he was relieved you messaged him back at all.

The two of you stayed up into the night texting each other, getting to know each other through messages. He was a lot more endearing that you had thought he would be, and you were happy you had decided to give him your number. He was really sweet, you came to realize, and you were hoping that /maybe/ you two would get to know each other more.

When the sun came up you two decided to call it quits for a few hours. He had a class in three hours, and you had to show up to the coffee shop. He promised he would be coming in for coffee, not just because he would be needing it or because it was the closest one to campus.

Somehow, the promise that he would come was better than the hope that he would that you had had before. You didn’t realize it before, but always hoped to see him.

 

Your phone buzzed as you were closing up the shop, vibrating against your hip to signal a call. You pulled it out, seeing an unknown number on the screen. You pushed ignore and finished up your closing duties, checking that you had locked the register and that all of the equipment was cleaned and put away.

You heard the bell on the door jingle while you were crouched under the counter, making sure any expired products were removed. “We’re closed!” You shouted, shutting the door of the small refrigerator.

“I know,” Said a familiar voice. You stood up quickly, greeting Stiles with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, wiping your hands on your apron before pulling it off. You walked around the counter to give him a kiss, pushing on him a little bit to keep him from leaning against the freshly washed glass display case.

“I came to pick my girlfriend up from work, (y/n). Is that so wrong of me?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his light blue jeans. You shook your head, giving him an endearing smile.

“You didn’t have to,” You told him, setting your apron on the hook by the door. You walked back around the counter to grab your purse, jumping a bit when Stiles reached down to take it from you.

“Sorry,” he whispered, positioning your purse onto the crook of his elbow. He stole a kiss from you before taking your hand. “I know I didn’t have to come pick you up, but I wanted to. Besides,” he said with a smirk. “It’s the seventh month anniversary since I met you, and the sixth month anniversary of our relationship. Which is a big deal.”

You snorked, “I was calling you Miles! It doesn’t count.” You locked the door to the coffee shop behind the two of you, hurrying to the blue jeep parked two spaces away from the door. 

“Fully counts,” Stiles called to you, unlocking the jeep. The two of you climbed in and he set your bag in your lap. You noticed a bouquet of roses sitting in something in the cupholder, your eyes lighting up.

“What’re these?” You asked, picking them up.

Stiles gave you a soft smile. “They’re roses. They’re a type of flower. People give them to other people for varying reasons. I’m giving them to you as a ‘yay we’ve been together half a year’ gesture. Did you see what they were in?” 

You shook your head, reaching into the cup holder to grab the vessel the flowers were held in. You pulled up a plastic coffee cup with a bit of water in it and turned it around, seeing what was written on it. You saw the scribbled out ‘ _Miles_ ’ and then the pretty ‘ _Stiles_ ’ with a heart, and then your number. You instantly got a huge smile on your face, playfully smacking Stiles’ arm. “You kept this?” You asked him, holding the cup out a little.

“Of course I did,” he shrugged. “It was the first time you knew who I was.”


End file.
